


Run

by ThePiesEndure



Category: Simple Plan
Genre: Ep, Evil Pierre, F/M, Stream of Consciousness, fan fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-14 17:11:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11212518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePiesEndure/pseuds/ThePiesEndure
Summary: Stream of thought chaptered vignette based on thoughts that have been roiling in my mind all night, not allowing me to sleep.Featuring Pierre Bouvier in an AU role.





	1. Darkness

 

He turned to look at me where I knelt by his chair. The lines on his brow and the hardness of his stare told me everything I needed to know. His anger was a living animal between us.  
  
He spoke. "You ran."  
  
I swallowed past the lump forming in my throat but I didn't respond, no words were necessary.  
  
"You know the penalty."  
  
I glanced up at him, not meeting his eyes but allowing my gaze to flicker on his lips before dipping it once more. "Yes, Master."  
  
His lips tightened into a slash across his face. "Come here."  
  
I shuffled forward on my knees so I was right at his feet. His gaze settled like a heavy weight upon me.  
  
"Look at me, little one."  
  
I lifted my eyes to meet his, and quailed at the expression there. A terrible tenderness that was unfathomable.  
  
"You shouldn't have run."  
  
My lips trembled, my heart fluttered and tears wet my eyes. "I...I'm sorry, Master..." I bowed my head.  
  
"I know. I am too." He sighed. "This is not how I wished this to end, sweetling..."  
  
I knew my fear at his words was clear. My breath caught in a soft gasp, eyes widening in horror of what was to come.  
  
"Master..." Despair in my voice, in my heart.  
  
He shook his head as he laid a gentle hand on my head. Then he trailed his finger tips to the spot on my forehead where my third eye would be. "Close your eyes, little one."  
  
I let out a soft whimper as I obeyed. I would always obey a direct command from him...no matter that I tried to leave...  
  
I heard his slow intake of breath...  
  
Then darkness...  
  
_Fin._


	2. Archangel

Bright light, and then a soft glow as the garden was revealed to my gaze. I came here in my dreams, but this was reality. The verdant greenery, the aroma of honeysuckles and roses...

And then, _he_ was there.

 _Raphael_.

The Archangel stood by a pool that bore no ripples on its surface, glass, still. He was waiting for me. Something in his countenance gave this fact away. His gaze was sorrowful as he met mine.

"He remembered his promise."

I trembled. "He killed me..."

Raphael's dark eyes appraised me. "You left him no choice, sweet one."

"I know..." I bit my lower lip, worrying between my teeth. "I just wanted to be free."

The angel squared his shoulders. "Freedom is never our lot. Angels, slaves...we are not in control." He looked at me, a frown marring the smooth ivory of his brow.

I lifted my chin, defiant. "Am I meant to forgive him for what he did then?"

Raphael's laugh was deep. "If anyone deserves redemption...it is most definitely the 'evil' one."

The term he used sent a chill through me and then I realised I disagreed with it. "He isn't evil. Just not one to suffer fools. Like you said, I didn't give him much choice." I thought to myself, it wasn't like he'd even been like that when he first bought me...it was partially my fault.

I was born a slave. Society decreed that slaves were second class citizens, entitled to the basic needs to live, food, shelter, medicines and health care, but in return we were to serve the first class citizens. I was in the lowest class of the slaves, the ones used for carnal pleasures.

For a time I was resigned to the status quo. This was my lot and nothing would change that. And then my Master came into my life. He was different. A singer in a band, not particularly interested in pushing me into things I didn't want to do. I was purely a companion for him while he toured with his band. He had only one rule. Do not run. Easy, right?

I guess it was the touring that undid me. Traveling to so many different places; observing all the first class citizens living their free lives. I ran at the end of the second tour.  He caught me trying to slip out of the back of the venue. The disappointment hurt. Mine and his. He didn't punish me that time...not really. Just made sure the crew kept me close by at all times. Putting me on water duty.

And perhaps if that first time had been enough of a deterrent...I wouldn't be where I was now. But it was like the bug of freedom bit me. I couldn't stop. The next tour I tried again, earlier into the trip. We were in Paris visiting one of the large tourist traps...the Eiffel Tower I think. Somehow I managed to slip back into a crowd that formed around the band. He found me though. And this time he took me back to the hotel and locked me in the room.

Each tour, each escape, he became angrier, his patience wearing thin. However, he never lay a hand on me. Physical punishment wasn't his way.

Not until this last time...

"What are you thinking?" Raphael interrupted my reverie.

I shook my head, joining him by the pool. "It's so still."

He smiled a little, a slight twitch of his lips. "It is peaceful." He touched the tips of his fingers to my cheek, stroking softly. I met his tender gaze.

"You asked me what I was thinking."

"Yes. You seemed lost in thought."

I blinked hard. "He changed. And it was my fault." I faltered, hugging myself and staring into the pool before I continued. "He should've been enough for me. He _was_ enough."

Raphael dropped his hand from my face. "He loved you, sweet one."

"Hah. I'm a slave."

"He still loved you. In his own way."

I clenched my jaw. "Hence why this is my fault. I drove him to it."

The angel gave me a look I couldn't decipher. "He promised you would come to my domain if it ever came to it."

"I don't understand that..."

Raphael smiled some more. "His way of making sure you would not fear death."

I swallowed hard, blinking back tears that threatened. "He's sorry...he's saying sorry?"

"In a way." Raphael looked out across the garden. "He walks here some days."

"What?"

He met my confused look. "You don't know much about him, do you?"

I huffed. "I was his slave for eleven years."

"Not long in the grand scheme of things." He touched my shoulder gently. "There are many things you need to be told....but for now you should rest."

I didn't want to rest, but something in the angel's expression told me that there would be plenty of time for answers, and so I allowed him to help me settle into peaceful sleep.

I sensed his calm, protective presence as I drifted off.


	3. Peace

The temperature here was mild, neither too cold, nor too hot. I wore a simple shift made of white linen that afforded me amble protection from the elements. Life up here was as simple as my clothing. I walked by the waters of the lake, ate fruit from the trees, and communed with the angels…  
  
This garden was a place of harmony and fellowship with the One who Created all things. And I was at peace. When I was in the world, owned by man, I knew not what that word meant. But, here, in Paradise…peace was everything.  
  
Sometimes, Raphael would be there. Mostly, I was alone. And I relished the time spent in my own company.  
  
One day - there weren’t really any distinctions between days here in this plane of existence - one day Raphael came. He wasn’t alone. No, someone else was with him.  
  
“Little one.”  
  
That voice.  
  
I turned. A thrill of shock, chills racing down my spine.  
  
Pierre.  
  
I don’t think I said his name out loud; yet, he responded as if I had.  
  
“ _Oui, Mon petite_.”  
  
I shook my head, and shot a look toward the Archangel. “What is _he_ doing here?” I didn’t bother asking how. I had some sense that there was either no answer to that, or it would be explained in response to my initial question.  
  
Raphael’s answering smile, reassured me somewhat, as did his words. “He came of his own free will…” Somehow absolving my automatic gut response to blame the angel for my Master’s appearance here. However, I still had questions.  
  
“Why?” _How?_  
  
Pierre kept his distance, but he felt even closer than before when he spoke. “I needed to see how you were.”  
  
I trembled. “Why do you care, Sir?”  
  
“Because, I love you.” His tone was frank.  
  
I swallowed hard. “You killed me.”  
  
White lines etched themselves on either side of Pierre’s nostrils. “I sent you away.” He exhaled, voice becoming rougher. “Slavery is immoral. Against the Law of the Creator.”  
  
I blinked hard. “You…actually believe that?” Slavery was the norm in my world. Our world. Even more damning. _He purchased me_.  
  
Pierre ground his teeth together before he said, “Yes. _Oui_. I bought a slave because the world expected it of me. Frontman of a band; kinda went with the territory.” He looked askance at Raphael before meeting my eyes once more. “I bought _you_ because you deserved freedom.”  
  
 _What?_  
  
Pierre continued. “My brother drew me to you.”  
  
 _His brother?_  
  
Raphael interrupted, voice low. “I told you there was more to him than you knew. He is kin.”  
  
I shivered, wrapping my arms around my torso. “An angel?”  
  
Pierre laughed a little, no mirth there. “Fallen angel. Immortal. Demon, some would say.” Self-deprecation evident.  
  
My legs wobbled beneath me, so I sat heavily in the grass. Pierre took a step in my direction then halted. I looked up at him, brow furrowed in consternation.  
  
“I don’t understand.”  
  
“No. I don’t expect you to. But, I purchased you so some day you would be free.” He sucked at his bottom lip. “Your death…it wasn’t meant to be the way. But the law of the world is stringent. Runaway slaves…” There was no need for him to finish the sentence. But, then I thought of how it happened.  
  
“Weren’t you supposed to turn me over to the authorities?”  
  
Pierre nodded, crouching down in front of me. “ _Oui_ , and if I was any other Master that would have been my course of action.”  
  
“But, you’re not?”  
  
“I’m a Fallen Angel. The laws of humanity don’t apply to me. I follow the Law of the Creator.” His smile was softer than any I experienced, ever, and I felt a sudden upwelling of warmth and love deep within my soul.  
  
“I was saved…”  
  
Pierre inclined his head in the affirmative. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.  
  
“You…love me?”  
  
“ _Oui_.”  
  
Pierre shifted closer, reaching out to rest his fingertips on my cheek; a light touch. I allowed it. Leaning into the contact as a deep peace covered me.  
  
Then. A thought.  
  
“Your brother, Sir?”  
  
Pierre glanced toward Raphael. I followed his glance. The Archangel lifted his hand and his appearance altered somewhat, and I realised the resemblance.  
  
“He is the light to my dark,” my Master murmured. That I could see. Not that Raphael was blonde or anything of the sort. Physically, they were similar: dark hair, dark eyes… No, the difference was spiritual.  
  
There was a holiness to Raphael…  
  
Pierre was as dark as the world that he lived in. Not evil. Just flawed, broken. Like me. Like all humanity. Except now I knew that _he_ was an immortal. But, what did that really mean? That the spiritual realm was real and did influence the human world? That much was evident. Clear as day.  
  
Clear as the day I was born into an imperfect world. A world that was once Created perfect. Good.  
  
 _In the beginning God created the heavens and earth…And God saw that it was good._  
That’s what the Holy Book said. God’s Word. Raphael quoted from the Word, and I engraved it in my heart. Now, in this moment, those words resonated as I looked at Pierre.  
  
“If you are Fallen?”  
  
Pierre leaned back, sighing. “I hope one day to be redeemed.”  
  
I frowned, not quite understanding. “You said you sent me away.”  
  
He nodded. “You’re not technically dead. I could take you back with me.”  
  
My breath caught in my throat at his confession. _What?_  
  
Pierre breathed out slowly. “That’s why I’m here.”  
  
“You can do that, Sir?”  
  
Pierre gave a small chuckle. “ _Oui_.”  
  
I liked it here in Paradise. I was safe. Free. Could I return to the world? I didn’t know.  
  
One thing I did know. If I left here.  
  
There would be no more peace.


End file.
